Vacation Days
by Funky Ceili
Summary: Takes place after the events of Dwight's Speech. Pam's resentment toward Jim's vacation plans causes her to do something she regrets. The sixth and final chapter is up.
1. Vacation Days

**Disclaimer: I own bitchin' a 2003 Honda Element; however, I don't own _The Office_ nor any of its characters.**

**The following story takes place the day after the events depicted in "Dwight's Speech."

* * *

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Chapter One: Vacation Days.**

Pam was a bit off that morning, not her usual self. She felt depressed and kept thinking obsessively about Jim's decision to schedule his vacation to coincide with her wedding. It wasn't as if he had made the plans far in advance. And the wedding date had been fixed for nearly two months. It couldn't have been accidental, she thought.

**

* * *

Talking head Pam**: Yeah, Jim won't be able to come to my wedding. He's leaving for Australia two days before. (looks like she might cry) Am I disappointed? Yeah, but I'm sure that there was some special deal or cheaper flight or something that he couldn't pass up. (clearly reaching for an excuse; suddenly she gets an idea) Hey, could you guys maybe ask him why he chose then to go on vacation?

* * *

Suddenly it occurred to her that maybe Jim wasn't as close a friend as she thought he was. We never hang out together outside of work really, she thought. Maybe he only thinks of me as a work buddy, not a real friend. The thought left her even more depressed.

Jim did not witness much of Pam's internal conflicts from his usual vantage point from his desk. Only minutes after he settled in at the office that morning, he went in to see Michael in private and hadn't come out in over 30 minutes. Through the blinds, their conversation seemed animated and slightly combative.

When Jim finally did emerge, he sat down briskly at his desk and went to work immediately without saying anything to anyone and without looking up from his computer screen.

**

* * *

Talking head Jim:** Why go on vacation then? Well, um (struggling uncomfortably), it's just the date that popped into my head, I guess. No particular reason, really.

* * *

Michael followed Jim out the door of his office and called Pam in to take some notes. He looked flustered.

"OK, Pam, take some notes and draft up a couple of memos to corporate, but first, I'll need you to process Jim's new vacation time," Michael shook his head as he announced this second request.

Pam hesitated and then asked, "Um, isn't it office policy that no two people can take the same vacation time? I reserved that week off for my honeymoon."

"Well, that's the point I kept trying to get across to Jim, but he said he'd ask for a transfer to the Albany branch if he couldn't get those days. And if Craig thinks he's going to get my best salesman (correcting himself), well, second best salesman this year . . . you know, sometimes compromise is the mark of a good leader."

"Uh huh." Pam puts her head and prepares to take notes for Michael.

"Oh, Pam, and before it slips my mind—you need to overnight FedEx Jim's vacation request to the New York offices. Since it's less than two months notice, corporate needs it by tomorrow noon."

"Right, OK."

* * *

Later, in the break room, Jim is being anxiously questioned by Kelly and Kevin about his plans for Australia.

Kevin offers to do some website research on Australia for Jim.

"Thanks, Kev, that's very helpful of you."

"I know this website that lists all the nude beaches in the world," says Kevin. "I'll print out all of the ones in Australia."

Less enthusiastically this time, "Gee, thanks Kevin."

Pam walks into the break room and sits down at the table to eat lunch.

An idea suddenly comes to Kelly: "Oh my God, Jim! What if you fall in love in Australia with some beautiful woman that looks just like Rachel Ward in _The Thornbirds_?And then you have to decide if you have to move to Australia or if she has to move to Scranton. And maybe you can't be together at all because neither you can abandon your homeland . . . "

Jim, Pam, and Kevin are all dumbstruck.

"Um, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, Kelly."

Kelly and Kevin eventually leave the break room, leaving Jim and Pam finishing their lunches.

"Ham and cheese, eh? Bold choice," Pam ribs Jim, trying not to let her hurt feelings about the vacation/wedding thing show.

"Hey, I'll have you know that I've gone with Monterrey Jack cheese today, not Swiss."

"Hmmm, a new and exciting Jim?"

"I'm getting there," Jim says, not noticing Pam's frown.

"Hey Jim?"

"Yeah?"

Pam struggles on the edge of a question and then finally gives up and says, "Nothing. It's nothing." She abruptly gets up and leaves the break room, leaving a slightly confused Jim sitting alone.

**

* * *

Talking head Pam**: So, did you ask him? (listening to the answer) Nothing? No reason at all? (She looks pissed at first and then her face starts to scrunch up and she cries softly)

* * *

The work day progresses even more slowly than usual for Pam, unable to stop looking up at Jim, painfully aware that he doesn't look up nearly as often as he used to. And when he does look at her, it's often devoid of his mischievous smile. It was as if a light has been turned off within him. 

But all of this registered only as a series of mysteries about their relationship that Pam seemed unable to solve. An objective observer might say "refused to solve," but Pam was far from objective. In her own mind, she attributed the strangeness between herself and Jim as somehow being her fault.

Did I do or say something to annoy him, she asked herself. Does he longer find me funny? Does overhearing make all these wedding plans make him think of me as just another silly girl and not his friend who's above all that?

Waking Pam from seemingly endless unanswerable questions, the FedEx man walked up to the reception desk and asked for the package she had called them to pick up. He was there to pick up Jim's vacation request. A sudden thought seized Pam.

As she stuffed the FedEx letter envelope under a pile of magazines, she coolly told the FedEx man, "oh, no, there's been a mistake, we don't have anything for you."

As Pam watched him go, a wave of guilt rushed through her body. What had she done? At just that moment, Jim looked up at her, smiled the rare Jim smile of old. "Almost quitting time," he calls out.

"Oh my God," Pam cries out to Jim's confusion. Suddenly she grabs the envelope out from underneath the magazines and runs out of the office trying and catch the FedEx guy. She frantically pushes the elevator button over and over, but soon panics and runs down the stairs instead.

She arrives outside the building just in time to watch the delivery truck drive away.

* * *

Roy knew something was wrong with Pam that night at home, but she kept dismissing him, saying she was just nervous about all the wedding plans still needing to be arranged. In truth, she was making herself sick thinking about what she had done to Jim. She couldn't even comprehend why she had done it.

She slept uneasily all night, unable to figure out a way to tell Michael what had happened. And, oh God, what am I going to tell Jim, she thought.

She woke up early in the morning, having had less than two hours sleep. She dialed Michael's voice mail and called off sick.

* * *

Jim was just coming out of the shower when the doorbell rang. Who is here at seven o'clock in the morning, he thought. With nothing but a towel around his waist, Jim ran downstairs and looked out the peephole.

"Pam?" Jim said aloud, startled and confused.

He opened the door. "Pam, what the Hell are you doing here?"

She stuttered for a moment, thrown for a moment by Jim's partially undressed state. "Um, could you call in sick today?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because," she hesitated, "I need you to drive me to New York City."

"Huh?"

* * *

**More to come, my friends. As always, feedback is cherished.**


	2. A Game of Chess

**Chapter Two: A Game of Chess.**

They had driven nearly thirty miles before Pam broke the painfully awkward silence between them.

Pam began cautiously "Jim, I really am . . . " but, before she could finish saying she was sorry, Jim held out his hand to silence her.

"Hey, you know what? Why don't we play a game? It's called 'see who can go the longest without talking,' ok? That be great, thanks," Jim barks.

Pam turned and looked out her passenger window. She recalled the awful scene between them just an hour earlier.

* * *

"You did what?" Jim hollered, still dripping from his shower and covered only by a towel around his waist.

"I'm sorry, Jim, I don't know what happened. I'm really, really sorry and you can yell at me all you want on the road, but the vacation request needs to be at corporate this morning, so we'd better allot time for bad traffic into the city, so I think you should get dressed."

Jim paced quickly around the living room, not knowing what to say.

"Why would you do this, Pam? You know my ticket is nonrefundable!"

"I know, but we can go over this later in the car on the way there. Just please, we have to leave soon."

"You know, I never would have expected something like this from you. I don't know you at all, do I? How could you be so mean? You and Roy completely deserve each other." Jim stormed upstairs, leaving Pam choking back tears.

* * *

Another thirty miles ticked by awkwardly, made even more painful with the complete silence, with only the sound of the tires rolling. Jim hadn't even put on the radio. And Pam didn't dare try to touch anything.

Finally, Pam again tried to break the silence. "Please, Jim, this is torture. I can't stand it. I'd prefer it if you just stopped the car and kicked me out on the side of the highway to fend for myself rather than go the rest of the way to New York and back like this."

"OK, does this look like a good spot up here to let you out?" Pam initially looks horrified and then realizes that Jim is actually joking.

"Traffic is building up. We're slowing down," Jim says, looking at Pam.

"We left early, so we should still make it before noon," Pam offers hopefully, even as they start crawling along interstate 80.

Jim hesitates and then asks, "Pam, why did you do this to me? What did I do to you to deserve this?"

Pam starts to cry. Jim turns away in the hopes of putting out of his mind the impulse to grab her and kiss the spots on her face where the tears were falling. Even now, he thought, even after she does this, he still wants her so much.

"Jim, I didn't do it to hurt you, I really didn't. Honest. I don't really know why I did it. I guess, I guess I was a little angry at you—for scheduling your vacation the week of my wedding."

"Oh," Jim says flatly. Pam waits for more from him, maybe an explanation or something, but nothing comes.

Finally, she asks, "Jim, why _did_ you schedule your vacation then? Of all the times you could have chosen, why then? I mean . . . " Pam stops, unable to continue.

Jim drums his fingers nervously on top of the steering wheel. He quickly tries to come up with some phony reason. And there are plenty possible excuses she might buy (she may well be desperate to buy some phony excuse), but he doesn't feel like lying today. Somehow, he felt too exhausted to go through the mechanics of deception right then. Yet, telling the whole truth seemed inconceivable too—like if he tried it, the words couldn't actually leave his throat. How is it, he thought, that someone like Pam, so smart and so attuned to him can't figure out something so obvious . . .

"Jim?" Pam finally interrupts his thoughts. Annoyed that he simply could not find a suitable answer, Jim shakes his head and finally says, "Can you really not figure this out? I mean, this isn't exactly the Riddle of the Sphinx here." They were now completely stopped in traffic, not moving an inch.

Now it was Pam's turn to juggle potential responses in her head, plotting out the safest possible thing to say, making sure that her protected fortress of emotions and subconscious thoughts remained secure and hidden. "You don't like Roy, do you?"

It was a game of words, neither one of them wanting to expose their innermost doubts or desires to the other, each hoping the other would make the first move, that the other would be the one to take the risk. Who would leave themselves open, even for a moment? The risks of exposure seemed so enormous for two people so long accustomed to lying both to themselves and everyone else around them.

The world outside Jim's car was cruelly oblivious to machinations inside the seemingly anonymous Toyota, one among probably thousands of cars inching their way toward New York City. Everyone has their own problems. Two people secretly in love with each another and one engaged to someone else is, after all, not the epic stuff that it was for Jim and Pam. The people that inched along side them today had likely had their own Jims, their own Pams at some point in their lives. Maybe a lucky few married their Jim or Pam and lived blissfully ever after. Most, however, would counsel Jim and Pam to move on with their lives. This can't end happily, most of the driver's might tell them. And they'd tell them from their own painful experiences to turn back from this road. Don't go any further.

But, just as the world around them were oblivious to Jim and Pam, Jim and Pam were, just then, oblivious to the world as well.

"Oh my God, you are so aggravating. Why do _you_ think I don't want to go to your wedding?"

"How would I know?"

"I think you do know."

"How could I?"

"Damn it, stop answering my questions with questions," Jim demanded.

"I wouldn't have to if you'd just tell me what you want to tell me. Say it. Just say it."

"OK." At this moment, Jim reached over toward Pam and pulled her near him for a kiss. He was surprised to find no resistance to it, but even more surprised at the passion of her reciprocation.

His hand started moving down her right side and his mouth explored her left cheek up to her perfect little ear. She held on to his shoulders, pushing his body closer to hers. She kissed his neck.

A few loud car horns sounded, forcing them apart violently, as if warning them of the danger ahead. They both looked straight-forward without so much as a glance toward each other. Traffic had begun moving again.

**I believe I have one or two more chapters left in this story.  
**


	3. Special Delivery

**Chapter Three: Special Delivery.**

Jim arrived first at work the next morning. He was more nervous than he had ever remembered being in his entire life. He hadn't slept at all the previous night, wondering anxiously if the phone would ring. He had so many fears and doubts running through his mind.

I'm here too early, he thought. It would be forever until Pam arrived. His knee kept banging compulsively underneath the desk. He kept telling himself to calm down. The whole office would know something's wrong if he couldn't calm himself down and act reasonably normal.

Normal. He was a million miles from normal this morning.

The usual suspects filed into the office, surprised to find Jim already at his desk. One by one, person after person shuffled past Jim: first Angela, then Stanley, Phyllis, Toby. Still no Pam. Kevin, Creed, Oscar, Ryan, Toby. Still no Pam. Oh God, then Michael.

Jim was ready to jump up and run out to his car when he heard the office door open and Pam finally walk to her usual place behind the reception desk. There was immediate relief followed again by concern as Pam just gave a cursory glance over to Jim and just sat down and immediately went to work on her computer.

Jim exercised considerable strength in not running over to her immediately. Luckily for him, Pam did not intend to keep him suffering for long. His computer sounded a ping, letting him know he had an e-mail message waiting for him. It was from Pam.

_Hey, it's over. I told him last night. P._

_How did it go? Are you alright? J._

_I don't want to get into it right now. It wasn't pretty, but what else would you expect? P._

_I'm really sorry. It must have been Hell on you. Why didn't call me last night? J._

_I was too upset. I just grabbed an overnight bag full of stuff and went over to my friend Emily's place to stay for the night. She'll let me stay with her until I get a place of my own. P._

_When can we talk? J. P.S. You look beautiful._

Jim could see the slight smile on Pam's face as she read his last message. Of course, the smile disappeared just as Michael came out of his office to call a staff meeting. There was a barely audible moan from the entire staff.

Everyone converged on the conference room. Jim and Pam were careful not to sit next to each other.

"OK," Michael began, "corporate has asked me to address some changes in the health care plan." Now the collective groan was entirely audible.

"Come on, Michael, if our benefits get cut any further, we're going to be doing surgery on ourselves," Stanley said angrily to a chorus of agreement from the rest of the staff."

"Alright, alright, now. Hey, there are some small, tiny cuts really. You probably won't even notice they're missing. But hey, I've got some good news for everybody."

No one appeared excited.

"Corporate is extending a new health benefit to every worker," Michael says as he pulls out an apple from a paper bag. "Everyone will getting one of these every day." Michael laughs heartily. "Get it? An apple a day keeps the doctor away."

Only Dwight laughs.

Michael returns to explaining the actual benefit cuts and there is a general darkening of the mood of the office. When he's done, Michael asks if anyone has any questions. Pam timidly raises her hand.

"Yes, our little Pam has a question."

"Actually, I have an announcement to make. This is really difficult to say and I hope everyone will respect the distance I need for the next few weeks, but," she hesitates. "But, Roy and I broke up last night and we're calling off the wedding."

The office reacts with an awkward hush and not a few curious glances in Jim's direction. Michael makes a not-so-discrete thumbs up motion to Jim, causing Jim to shake his head sternly toward Michael, as if to say, "no, not now, you idiot."

After that astonishing development, everyone returns to his or her desks. Michael calls Pam into his office. She looks horrified and Jim looks equally horrified on her behalf.

As soon as she closes Michael's door behind her, Pam immediately motions toward him and stay quiet, "Michael, I meant it when I said I need space. The last thing I need or want is to discuss any of this with you."

Michael seems disappointed, but goes on, "Oh, yeah, of course. Not to beat a dead horse here, but, since you're not getting married, you won't be needing that week off for your honeymoon after all. Which works out great. That way, you and Jim won't be out the same week."

Pam shifts nervously, "Actually, Michael, I'm going to be pretty depressed that week, with not getting married and all, and I really could use a chance to get away."

"Well, Pam, it would really mean a lot to me if you'd help me out here." Michael tries to make what he thinks are puppy dog eyes toward Pam, not realizing that instead of pity that they just icked Pam out.

Pam wasted no time in answering him. "Um, no. Just, no."

* * *

Pam had good reason to reject Michael's request.

After traffic started moving again, Pam and Jim were in a kind of disbelieving daze. They periodically looked at each other and blushed and even intermittently giggled like teenagers. Before long, they were in Manhattan, heading toward the headquarters of Dunder-Mifflin.

On the elevator ride up to the corporate offices, Jim suddenly turns to Pam and says, "I can't go to Australia now and leave you here that week."

"Don't be ridiculous. You've already bought the ticket. You're going. I expect lots and lots of souvenirs, though."

"Um, I've just been assuming this, maybe, but you're going to leave Roy, right?" Jim asks this with some trepidation, realizing that Pam isn't exactly the most strong-willed person, especially when hurting someone is involved and that she may indeed attempt to wipe the day's events away and return to her old life.

Pam suddenly looks like she's about to cry. The elevator doors then open and they both step out.

"Pam?" Jim grows more concerned with her silence.

"I know I have to, it's just that . . . we've been together so long. I've never even dated anyone else. I've never kissed anyone else. I've never sl . . . " she stops herself, coloring.

"If you don't love him Pam, you won't be doing him any favors by staying with him."

"I do love him."

Jim recoils at this.

Pam continues. "I mean, you can't be with someone this long and not love them. And I do love Roy. I just don't . . . I just don't feel . . . it's just not that kind of love, anymore."

Jim relaxes at bit. "So, you're going to leave him, right?"

Pam deflects the question by looking at her watch. "Jim, it's 11:55. We have to get this form to HR."

"No."

"What?"

"No, not unless you promise to go with me."

Pam smiles and laughs, "Oh, come on, Jim."

"I'm serious. I'll only take the form to HR if you promise me that we'll find the first travel agency around here and get you a seat on my flight."

"You're insane."

"You already have the week off. Why not?"

"Come on, Jim, you're running out of time. Why are you being like this?"

"Because I don't trust you." At this, Pam seems stunned.

"Excuse me?"

"Because I don't trust you to leave Roy otherwise. You hate conflict and you can't stand hurting anyone. If I buy this ticket, you have to come. Or else I'll be out $2800 for two tickets. If you don't come with me, I just feel like you'll never leave him."

With less than a minute to spare, Pam handed the vacation request to the HR receptionist. Jim asked to see their phone book. When the receptionist handed it to him, he immediately searched for the heading that read "Travel Agencies."


	4. Handle with Care

**Chapter Four: Handle with Care.**

When Pam emerged from Michael's office, there was an email from Jim already waiting for her.

_What did that jackass have to say? J._

_Nothing important. It's OK. P._

_So, am I seeing you tonight? J._

_Oh, I don't know. Emily is coming with me to Roy's place to help pick up more of my stuff. I don't know if I'll be up to doing anything. P._

_Yeah, that's fine. Will you call me, though? J._

_Yes. But Jim, we need to be really careful about this. I don't think we should be throwing this in Roy's face. He was really angry and I don't know how he'd react. Plus, I don't want to be the object of everyone's rumors in the office—especially Michael. Let's just be careful and try and act normal. J._

_Absolutely. Oh, and by the way, did I mention how beautiful you look? J._

After reading his message, Pam looks up at Jim, smiles and rolls her eyes. They both try to act normal. Whatever that meant.

* * *

Jim and Pam were poor judges of what exactly "normal" was between them. After all, it was their normal behavior that everyone had read as flirting to begin with. Even Pam, who had watched with humor the pitiful attempts Dwight and Angela made to hide their relationship, didn't internalize the lesson: the only person you're fooling is yourself.

And the extraordinary effort with which the receptionist and the salesman attempted to stay away from each other and to avoid the temptation to visit each other's desks constantly (as they were known to do "normally") just ended up confirming the rest of the office's belief that they were indeed together and that their mutual absence the previous day had something to do with the demise of Pam's engagement.

Jim and Pam, however, thought themselves clever and thought their behavior allowed little room for office gossip.

In the early afternoon, the weekly delivery of office supplies from the warehouse was set to arrive. Pam was seized with dread since Roy was often the one that brought them up. She felt indescribable relief seeing Darryl instead. Nonetheless, she noticed that the usually friendly Darryl was curt with her and snapped the clapboard away while she was still signing for the shipment.

She didn't blame him, really. He was Roy's friend. It was only right that he would express anger toward Pam. Still, it was a reminder that she was the one that broke it off with Roy. And she hated ceding the high ground to anyone. She hated being the bad-guy. Jim was right about that. And at that moment, she really wanted Jim to comfort her.

A thought came to her. "Hey Jim, can you help me put this stuff away in the supply closet? I can never reach the top shelves."

Once they reached the closet and pushed the handtruck full of boxes inside, Pam closed the door and immediately grabbed Jim and started kissing him.

Jim moved away a little. "Wow, I'd like to see what would happen if we weren't being so careful."

"Save the talkin' for later, Halpert." They both laugh and make-out for a few seconds but then hurriedly put the supplies away to avoid suspicion. Nevermind that Jim had never been needed to help Pam do this before or that there was a step stool in the supply closet specifically for Pam to reach the top shelf.

That was at 1:35. At 2:20, Pam asked Jim to help her reach the red file folders at the back of the supply closet. Then, around 3:00, Pam asked Michael if he needed his desk supplies restocked. Michael, unused to such attention from Pam, gladly accepted her offer. Of course, the boxes of paper clips and the binder clips were quite heavy and buried deep on the top shelves. Jim's help would be needed. At 4:15, Pam decided to break down a lot of the cardboard boxes made empty by a busy day of restocking supplies. The packed boxes needed to go down to the recycling area. Could Jim help? Sure he could. They would have to take the freight elevator to the dumpster area. The freight elevator mysteriously got stuck between the first and second floors for about ten minutes.

Yes, they thought they were being clever and covert. With 15 minutes remaining in the day, Pam received an email from Jim.

_Wow, the day went fast. J._

_Well, you worked very hard. P._

_Many more work days like this one and I may never retire. By the way, did I tell you how beautiful you look? J._

_No, you haven't mentioned it. I'll call you tonight, OK? P.

* * *

_

What a difference a day made. When he arrived at work the previous day, he was filled with anxiety and fear. This morning, even his roommate eyed him suspiciously, noting how uncharacteristically joyful Jim was. Not a morning person himself, his roommate resisted the urge to the stab Jim in the eye with a fork.

Pam was already at her desk when he arrived. He gave a cursory glance at her and attempted to sound a perfunctory, completely neutral and totally not unusual "good morning." She responded as emotionlessly as she could in return.

An email already awaited Jim.

_You know, the supply closet has never been organized well. We should try to rearrange it into alphabetical order. And if that doesn't work out well, then we can try color-coding all the supplies. And if we really get frustrated, we can lie down and . . . _

Jim started to redden deeply.

Just then, Dwight came up behind Jim. "Question: how much are we charging a pallet of the new glossy paper?" Jim frantically closed the email window, lest Dwight, of all people, were to read that last sentence. Dwight noticed the panic and the harried attempt to hide the email.

"Jim, what are you hiding from me?" From her vantage at the reception desk, Pam went ashen.

"I'm not hiding anything, Dwight."

"Yes, you were. I saw you close your email window just as I walked up. Is it about me, Jim? Or Michael?"

"Actually, Dwight, I didn't want anyone to know about this, because it's a secret, but . . . since you're on to me . . . "

"Yes, I am Jim. I'm a volunteer deputy sheriff. I'm trained to notice shifty behavior."

"Look, a Nigerian princess who is going to have her wealth confiscated by her government has contacted me with an offer that if I give her access to my bank account, she'll put all of her money into it and, when she gets to America, we'll split it. So I didn't want you trying to get in on the deal." Pam lowers her head behind her computer terminal, trying to stifle her laughter.

"Oh, Jim. You're so naïve. That's a scam. It's lucky you told me about it or you'd wake up tomorrow with your bank accounts drained. You owe me."

"I sure do, Dwight. How will I ever thank you?" Jim looks to Pam as if to say "close call."

They decide to play things a little more coolly today given that brush with exposure. With no retreats to the supply closet or to the freight elevator possible, the day went much more painfully than usual, giving them a more realistic picture of how difficult having a covert office romance would be.

Forget for a moment that, saving Dwight, Michael, and a deliberately unconcerned Creed, their relationship wasn't very covert at all. In fact, for the majority of the office, the real surprise would be that making out is all Jim and Pam had done. Everyone assumed pretty much that they had had sex long before the official break-up between Pam and Roy. Some in the office had even imagined it a little too vividly for comfort.

But, again, Jim and Pam continued to live in a universe in which they believed their behaviors could be read by no one but themselves. It was an extension of the way they were before—assuming that their own affected behavior could cover their deeper feelings for one another—but now projected at the wider audience of the office. They didn't seem to understand that their own denial of the obvious was the product of deeply ingrained wishful-thinking and that their officemates simply didn't suffer the same neuroses that they did. Neuroses, God yes, but not the _same_ neuroses.

For the first time, though, they realized what a long daily slog it would be to hide their growing physical relationship. Pam even felt a whiff of pity for what Dwight and Angela were themselves working so hard to keep private. And they didn't have a Roy to worry about. She did.

When she thinks it's safe, she emails Jim.

_This is painful. P._

_I know. More than I would have guessed. This brings up an important decision we have to make and I know you don't want to face it, but we have to tell Roy. J._

_Oh, God, I know, but I just wanted like a month for him to cool down and adjust to things before I go and add salt to his wound. P._

_Let's talk about this tonight. Dinner? My place? I know you wouldn't know it from my lunch sandwiches but I'm actually a pretty good cook. I'll make chicken parmesan. And you can stay over if you want. J._

Jim hesitated hitting the send button, not knowing whether the last sentence was over-presumptuous or too aggressive. But he did send it and he watched nervously to gauge Pam's reaction.

_Chicken parmesan sounds great. P._

Jim would have liked more of a clue. But he and Pam have never been clear with one another in the past. Why would that change now?


	5. Advance and Retreat

**Chapter 5: Advance and Retreat.**

When Jim opened his front door at 7:10 that Thursday night, Pam could not have known how much that poor man had been driven nearly insane by his efforts to make the evening perfect. It was easy to forget that though they had spent nearly 40 hours a week for five years sitting only feet from each other and though they had spent much of the last few days in a frequent state of liplock that this, in fact, would be their first date.

And Jim was determined to do it right. While he was all the appearance of calmness as he walked Pam out to her car after work, that façade disappeared as he sprinted to his car, raced to the grocery store, and then sped back to his apartment. He was barely through the front door when he yelled to his roommate sitting casually on the sofa, "You need to leave."

"Huh? Why?"

"Pam."

Jim didn't need to say any more. His roommate got the picture quickly.

"OK, I'll call my girlfriend and see if I can come over to her place." He stops before heading up the stairs and smiles broadly at Jim. "Should I tell her I need to spend the night?"

"Um, I, ah . . . "

"OK, well, I'll pack my stuff up."

"Oh and if it's not too much trouble, could you help me get dinner started? I'm running behind. Please."

"Oh, man, I want you to recognize that I am the best friend ever."

Jim grabbed his roommate's head with both hands and kissed him on the cheek. "I promise to get you a certificate saying just."

"I want it notarized."

Together, they got the salad made, the chicken started, and the bruschetta dressed and ready for the oven in time for Jim to get a quick shower. When the doorbell rang, Jim's roommate ran upstairs to get his overnight bag and let Jim greet his guest alone.

* * *

Pam had been in a midgrade panic roughly since receiving Jim's final email. _You can stay over if you want. _It was so casual, yet it set Pam's head whirling. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend the night with Jim. She did. But, for her, the prospect of being that intimate with Jim brought with it a host of fears that she hadn't had to contend with for many years, fears she had, up until only a few days ago, thought she would never have to address again.

She had been a shy child and an awkward and shy teenager. And even now, as an adult, Pam still felt like the artsy nerd that felt overcome with pride and gratitude when the popular jock Roy showed interest in her in high school. Roy had been her first boyfriend. It was with Roy that she had first had sex. It was _only_ with Roy that she had had sex. And, for a long time, she had resigned herself to the idea that Roy would forever be the only man she would have sex with. Resigned is the wrong word. It comforted her. Pam was never one to trade comfort and certainty for excitement and expectation.

For those who have cycled through several relationships by the time they find the permanent one, the fear of sex with someone new, while still significant, is not as paralyzing as it is for those, like Pam, who worried secretly that she wasn't any good at it or that she didn't quite know what she was doing. She had no valid reason for believing such a thing. Certainly Roy had never hinted at anything being wrong or amiss. But, for Pam, who never acknowledged that she was pretty, let alone "beautiful," as Jim had repeatedly written in his emails, it was easy to dismiss herself in bed, as well.

And the build-up between herself and Jim would make it even more of a let down if the act somehow fell short of the expectations.

So Pam was quite nervous indeed.

When she looked in the mirror after work, she saw a frumpy receptionist in ridiculously white tennis shoes. She couldn't go like this. But, she wasn't one to make herself deliberately sexy. She doubted that she knew how.

Her friend Emily spied Pam looking at herself disapprovingly in the mirror.

"Hey Pammy, what's wrong?"

"I look like a receptionist."

"You are a receptionist."

"But I don't want to look like one. I want to look nice for Jim tonight. Different."

"It sounds like he likes you just fine the way you are."

"I know he likes me. But I want him to more than 'like' me."

"Ah. Well, I could help you." Pam beamed and thanked her friend. Together, they loosed Pam's hair, applied make-up, and dressed her less conservatively.

Right before Pam was set to leave Emily's apartment for Jim's, she quick poured a small glass of bourbon and downed it quickly.

* * *

Jim welcomed Pam with a kiss and, as she walked in, Jim's roommate bounded down the stairs and greeted Pam himself.

"It's good to see you again, Pam. I wish I could stay and chat with you for a while, but, well, Jim is kicking me out of my own apartment."

Pam laughed and Jim made like he really was going to kick his roommate in the ass.

The two of them were left alone. And awkward.

"Sit down. Do you want a glass of wine or something?"

"Yes, please." Pam was actually thinking, "Yes, wine desperately."

Jim brought her the wine and a plate of bruschetta.

"Wow, you really went all out. Thank you."

"Aw, nothing, really, especially when you force your roommate into slave labor."

"Oh, no, and we kicked him out."

"Eh, he's done it to me plenty of times."

Pam continued, "Is that Van Morrison playing?"

"Yeah, you like him right?"

"Oh, yeah, of course."

Jim was relieved. He kept obsessing to his roommate about what music should be playing when Pam arrived.

"Come on, just make up your mind or I'm going to put in the most obnoxious 80's hair band I can dig out." Sick of the indecision, his roommate finally picked up a Van Morrison CD and shoved it in the stereo. "Everyone likes Van Morrison," he assured Jim.

After a couple of seconds of silence, Jim tells Pam, "Look, if you don't like what we're having tonight, you don't have to pretend. If you take a bite and it's terrible, I'll order pizza or something."

"I'm sure it'll be great. It smells really good."

They bounced through unimportant and insignificant conversation with semi-ease for the next twenty minutes, waiting for the chicken to be done. While Jim checked the oven for the last time, Pam poured herself more wine and helped set the table.

"So," Pam began cautiously, "how long have you . . . "

Jim interrupts her. "Roughly since you came in the office to interview for the job." Pam laughs and blushes. "Actually, it might have been when you got out of your car to walk into the building to interview." Pam laughs even more.

As Jim fills her wine glass, she interrogates him further. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Are you kidding? Roy is huge. And I've kind of grown attached to my face."

"No, come on, really."

"Um, it just never seemed like the right time. I mean, what if you said no and then our friendship would be all weird? Besides . . . " Jim stops here and looks sad.

"What Jim?"

"I know this is going to sound odd, but . . . it was, like, if I never asked, you couldn't say no either. I could keep hoping and believing that you might one day want me too. If I asked and you just said no, I'd know that was that. And I couldn't dream any more."

Pam is touched and reaches over and put her hand on top of Jim's.

After dinner, Jim starts to pick up the dishes and clean up. Pam rises to help, but Jim tells her he has everything taken care of.

"No, I want to help you, Jim. Actually, as strange as _this_ might sound, when I've thought about us together, I would picture us doing dishes together."

"Oh great. That's just what every guy wants to hear! That a woman fantasizes about dishwashing with him."

Pam says uncomfortably, "Well, sure, I fantasize about _other things_ too. But what I mean is, I just pictured us being very comfortable even doing stupid little chores and stuff. I'm going to stop now, before I make myself sound like a complete freak." She pours more wine into her glass.

"No, no, I kind of like that explanation. Because, honestly, dating sucks. I mean, there you are, trying so hard to be perfect for this person you don't know yet. You're always on edge, always trying too hard. But the real great part of the relationship is when all that pretending, all that performing, is done. And you can wear ratty boxers around the house and you can admit you like watching _Battlestar Gallactica_ and _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ reruns and you can be comfortable not talking every second and do the crossword on Sunday mornings and . . . " Jim stops as he realizes that he's rambling. "Well, I'll shut up now."

"No, no, I know exactly what you mean. Well, not the _Battlestar Gallactica _thing. That's actually kind of frightening. You know Dwight loves that show, right?"

"Yes, and that is very disturbing and I beg of you not to tell him."

Pam continues, "So, Jim, brace yourself. I have a very personal question to ask you."

"Oh boy."

"Your hair."

"What about it?"

"Do you just not comb it in the morning or is it actually a studied look that you work at?"

Jim laughs. "You'll just have to find out for yourself."

At this, Pam feels blood rush to her head. She pours herself more wine. They move into the living room to sit on the sofa. Jim asks if she'd like to watch a movie. Together they look through Jim's DVD collection, and a constant flow of comments like "oh, I love that one too," "I can't believe you even know that movie," or, occasionally, "what were you thinking?" They finally settle on _Kicking and Screaming_, a film Pam had never seen, but which Jim assured her that she'd love.

"Did you want more wine?" Pam answers Jim with a little too emphatic a yes. When Jim got to the kitchen, he realized that the wine was gone, which struck him as odd, since he only had two glasses himself.

"Um, sorry the wine's all gone and there's only beer in the . . . "

"Beer is fine," Pam interrupts Jim, to his troubled surprise. Nonetheless, he brings a beer.

They start watching the film. Jim watches Pam intently to see if she's liking the film and smiles every time he sees her laugh. He does grow worried, though, when he sees Pam come back from each trip to the bathroom with another beer. He had only ever seen Pam drunk once, at last year's Dundies. And she didn't seem to have high tolerance for alcohol then, so he didn't peg her as a big drinker at all.

Finally the film ends and Pam expresses approval of the film. The last lines, in particular, stayed with her: "I just wish we were an old couple so I could kiss you."

With the film over, it was an awkward moment for both. It's that point in the date when the big decisions are often made, either explicitly or implicitly, either deliberately or accidentally. And it's almost always more of a negotiation within the self more so than with the other: should we kiss? how far should we go? when is it really too far to turn back? These are the times that try dating men and women's souls, or at least scare the Hell out of them.

Each was nervous in their own way. For his part, Jim was worried that he was pushing Pam too far too fast. It was only a few days ago that she was engaged to be married to another man. Was he being too selfish, in too much of a hurry? And, Pam, of course, was worried that she'd fail to live up to the fantasies and expectations Jim had accumulated in five years. How could she ever live up to all that? How could anyone?

* * *

But that night the decisions were indeed made implicitly and accidentally. Pam soon passed out on Jim's sofa and awoke the next day, lovingly covered in a blanket, her head supported by a pillow, and acute embarrassment washing over her.

You're such an idiot, she thought.

* * *

**OK, I think there's one more chapter to go here. BTW, the _Kicking and Screaming_ movie I reference is the older one, with Eric Stoltz and Parker Posey, not the more recent slapsticky comedy.**


	6. Full Disclosures

**Chapter Six: Full Disclosures.**

Once Pam regained a sense of where she was and what had happened, she let out a quiet "oh shit."

"Good morning. How are you feelin'?" The sound came from the kitchen, where Jim sat dressed and ready for work, crunching a bowl of cereal.

Pam covered her eyes in embarrassment and said "Oh, God, Jim, I'm so sorry."

"So, exactly how long have you been a drunkard?" Jim's openly sarcastic tone made Pam laugh and relieved some of her mortification. Some, not all.

"Ha ha. I don't know why I did that. I almost never drink."

"I figured. Any reason why you did last night?" Jim asks more seriously.

"A little nervous, I guess."

"Yeah, you know, I kind of figured that after you, you know, passed out. And, ah, you know, I feel really bad if you felt pressured or rushed into something. I really didn't mean to do that. You can take as long as you need. We're in no hurry."

"No, it's not . . . " Pam stops. "Thank you, you're very sweet. Oh, hey, what time is it?"

"Eight o'clock. I didn't want to wake you. So why don't you rest up here some more for as long as you want and you can go back to Emily's and get changed, showered, or whatever. And just relax. The door locks automatically, so, you know, you're welcome to stay or go whenever. But I thought I at least better get to work today. If we both call off sick again in the same week, I think the gig is up."

"Maybe the gig should be up."

Jim eyes Pam curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't we just go in today and just let things be what they are."

"Be what they are? And how is that, exactly?"

"Well, you know, that we're seeing each other in a non-occupational, extracurricular fashion."

Jim is very happy. "Are you sure?" Pam smiles broadly and nods her head yes. Jim continues, less happily, "What about Roy?"

Pam's smile disappears. "I don't want him to find out by rumor. I just have to pull the band-aid off quickly. I'll tell him this afternoon. I just don't want to keep up some ridiculous act like Dwight and Angela."

"Wait, what's this about Dwight and Angela?"

"I'll explain it later. You need time for your breakfast to digest."

"OK, so, um, should I go to work without you and you'll just be late, or do you want me to take you to Emily's to get ready?"

"Yeah, why don't we drive together. It won't take me that long."

"Great. Plus, then, I get to keep your car hostage and you have to come home with me to get it."

* * *

On the ride over to Pam's temporary lodging and then to the Dunder-Mifflin office, they debated the best way to disclosure their relationship. Jim suggested a memo. To which, Pam suggested that they just start making out on the reception desk. Finally, they agreed that they had to talk to Toby first because, as the HR representative, he had to process the paperwork declaring an inter-office consensual romantic relationship.

But, perhaps a formal announcement to the staff would not be unnecessary after all. Jim and Pam arrived together, at the same time, thirty minutes late. It was a conspicuous entrance, made even more so by the sudden hush when they came in and by the seemingly simultaneous turning of all the heads in the office save Michael, who had mercifully taken a personal day.

Now this, Jim and Pam couldn't even pretend not to notice. They kept walking straight back to Toby's desk.

When Toby looked up at them, he just nodded and said "Let me guess." He then held up the declaration paperwork. The couple blushed and nodded. "OK, let's go into the conference room, get this stuff signed, and I have to go through a couple of corporate policies regarding these kind of relationships and have you sign something that says that you have heard them and understand them."

As the three of them walked to the conference room, there is still no sound from anyone but all eyes follow their every move. Even as they sit there in the conference room, through the blinds, everyone still stares at them. Pam is a little freaked out. Jim whispers, "I don't think we even need to say anything."

Toby hands them some paper that needs signing and initialing. He says to them, in his polite and softly spoken Toby way, "Um, look, I'm not going to tell on you guys to corporate or anything, but you really should have declared this when it started."

"Um, but it only started a couple of days ago," Jim offers.

Toby nods knowingly, "Right and that's what I'm going to write down, but, just so you know for the future, you really should declare it in the first week."

"We are," Pam is getting flustered.

"Sure," Toby says.

After all the paperwork has been signed and initialed and all the policies clearly noted, they all get up to leave. When Jim and Pam emerge from the conference room, they are met with a startling round of applause from everyone except Dwight and Angela. Pam is mortified and turns around and buries her head in Jim's chest. But the office converges around them, genuinely happy. Even Angela manages a sincere smile from her desk.

"OK, OK," Jim says, trying to disperse his officemates. "Thanks and everything, but can we just get back to normal now?" As everyone begins to return to their desks, Kelly can't help herself and kisses Jim's cheek and gives Pam a hug.

When everything finally dies down and everyone is seated and back to the drudgery of work, Pam emails Jim.

_Now Roy. P._

_I'm coming down with you. J._

_No, that could be a bad scene. P._

_I'm not going to let you go alone. That's not an option. J._

_I can handle this, really. I mean it—don't come. It'll just make things worse. P._

Jim doesn't like this at all. But he has an idea. He walks over to Kevin's desk.

"OK, here's the deal. Pam has to tell Roy about us in a few minutes and . . . "

Kevin interrupts Jim, "Oh, dude, that's going to be harsh."

"Um, yeah, and that's why I'm here. Pam insists that I can't come down with her and she won't listen to reason on this, and you once said you'd get my back. Well, I'm asking you to get _her_ back. Could you just go down and make sure she's OK and take my cell phone if anything starts to go wrong?"

"Absolutely." Kevin hesitates and then says, "I can bring Oscar?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

"And Ryan?"

"Sure."

"And Meredith? "

"You know, I think that'll be enough."

Jim walks up to the reception desk and Pam immediately reminds him that he can't come down to the warehouse with her. "Not a problem," Jim says to Pam's surprise. "Because Kevin is coming down to watch out for you."

Pam laughs. "Kevin?"

"Yeah, Kevin. And Oscar. And Ryan. And maybe Meredith."

"Really, Jim, nothing is going to happen."

"I know, I'd just feel better if somebody else was there. Look, it's either me or them, pick."

"Well, Meredith can kick ass," Pam laughs.

* * *

The wait for Pam, Kevin, Oscar, and Ryan to get back from the warehouse seemed interminable for Jim. He got up repeatedly from his desk and nearly went running down to the warehouse, but he forced himself to sit back down.

Finally, one by one, they filed back into the office. Ryan, then Oscar, Kevin, and Pam. The looks on all their faces did not reassure Jim. They looked shell-shocked and frightened out of their minds. As Kevin walks by Jim, he leans down and says "Jim, I don't think you want to go down to the warehouse alone—ever again." Kevin starts to leave and then stops to add, "Actually, don't go to the warehouse period."

Jim nervously walks over to Pam's desk. "What happened?"

"Oh, it went fine, really," Pam says, clearly lying. "We'll talk about it later."

Jim nods and starts to go back to his desk. But Pam adds quickly, "Oh, and Jim, maybe you better stay away from the warehouse for a while. Like forever."

Jim looks frightened.

The office was surprisingly cheerful the rest of the day, even for a Friday, even for a Friday without Michael. Sometimes people wrapped up in their pain and their own problems don't realize that their lives and their moods, however well they believe they've cloaked them from plain sight, effect the lives of all around them. Personal misery infects the physical properties of an environment in ways science can never explain.

And with Jim and Pam no longer suffering silently amongst them, everyone felt a palpable weight lifted from them and, for a short time at least, shared the couple's sense of content.

Of course, there were unintended consequences as well, as Dwight and Angela felt even more pressure on their own relationship's covert status. And then Jim and Pam had also to contend on Monday with revealing themselves to Michael and all the potential offensive sexual innuendo that would bring.

Now Jim could visit Pam at her desk without fear. "So, since I have your car hostage, you have to come home with me tonight. You tell me exactly what you want to do and I'll make it happen."

"Actually, what I'd really love is chance to make last night up to you."

"Make what up to me? I had a great time."

"You know what I mean."

"I mean it when I say that last night was incredible and you have nothing, nothing to make up to me, OK?"

"OK. Thank you, Jim."

"Now, whatever you want to do, I want to make it happen."

"Anything?"

"Anything that's not illegal. No, cancel that, especially anything that _is_ illegal."

"OK, here's what I want." Jim comically picks up a notepad and pen to write down Pam's requests. Pam continues, "I want to pick up some take-out, go back to your apartment, and talk. And maybe listen to some listen to music. And lay down on your sofa with my head on your lap and listen to your entire life story, roughly since birth."

"Oh, come on, you're being too easy on me."

"You said anything."

"If that's what you want, that, my dear, exactly what you'll get." Jim smiles and takes an M&M. "Half an hour to go." Pam smiles back.

* * *

Quitting time arrives. When people walk past Jim as he waits for Pam to gather her things, some of them stop and smile at him, a couple even pat him on the shoulder, an acknowledgement that everyone knew how long Jim and suffered and how much they enjoyed seeing him so happy.

On the way to Jim's car, Pam floats an idea past Jim, "Oh, hey, maybe we can double-date with Angela and Dwight." Jim opens the car door for her. She continues, "we can watch _Battlestar Gallactica_ together." She laughs.

"I knew you weren't going to let that go." At that moment, Pam's jaw drops and she tries to warn Jim, but everything happened too fast.

Jim felt himself being jerked back and turned around with great force only to be face to face with Roy.

"Didn't waste much time did you, Halpert?" Roy punches Jim in the stomach, causing Jim to release a deep cry of pain. Pam is out of the car and several office and warehouse staff are on their way to Jim's car.

Pam yells at Roy to let Jim go.

"Is this what you were after the whole time you son-of-a-bitch?" Roy slams Jim against the car, holds him by jacket, and punches him in the eye before three or four guys from the warehouse pull Roy away. Pam and the entire office staff converge around Jim to see if he's alright. Angela runs up to the office to get the first-aid kit and Dwight checks to see if Jim should go to the hospital.

They prop Jim up against the car, Angela puts an ice pack to Jim's eye, and Jim tries to assure everyone that he's OK. Pam is distraught and wracked with guilt. This is all my fault, she thinks to herself.

Dwight is even nice to Jim, offering to have Roy arrested. Jim declines, thanks everyone for their concern, and tells them to go on home. That leaves Jim and Pam alone by his car.

"Oh my God, I can't believe this happened. I am so sorry."

"You didn't hit me. You shouldn't be sorry. Besides, I can't really say that I blame him. If he had taken you from me, I'd be likely to want to beat him up too—except that, you know, he's enormous and scary. Let's just get out of here."

And so Pam drove Jim home.

"I'm sorry," Jim began as he sat on the sofa next to Pam, with the ice pack on his eye. "I wanted this night to be great."

"Hey, this wasn't your fault. Besides, I was the one that ruined last night and that _was_ my fault."

"No, that was my fault too. I shouldn't have written that e-mail suggesting you stay over. I didn't mean to rush you and make you all nervous."

"I really do want to be with you, Jim. I just worry that . . . " Pam trailed off, embarrassed.

"What? What do you worry about?"

"Alright, this is embarrassing. I've only ever been with Roy."

Jim takes a minute to get the full meaning of what Pam has said and then responds, "That's not embarrassing at all. Now, Meredith being tougher in a fight than me, now _that's_ embarrassing."

"I'm being serious."

"Why would that be embarrassing?" Here Pam is overcome with said embarrassment.

"Because I'm worried that you've been waiting so long for me and building this up and it's just not going to live up to what you're expecting and then you're going to be disappointed."

"In the sex, you mean?" Pam looks at Jim as if to say, "well, yeah."

Jim considers this for a moment. "Well, I mean that's possible." Pam is made even more awkward by Jim's seemingly brutal honesty and she looks away troubled.

"But," Jim continues, "but that's not about how many people you have or have not been with. To be honest, sex with someone for the first time is almost never fantastic. One night stands are generally horrible. Believe me, I know." At this last statement, Jim tries to backpedal, seeing Pam's raised eyebrows. "Forget I said that last part. What I mean is, no matter how great a connection with someone is or how attractive you find them or how much they turn you on or even how much you love them, you still have to get to know each other's, you know, . . . I mean, if you really love the person, it gets better and better and better. And believe me, I am ready and willing to put in the time and effort at any point you want to put me to work."

Jim's smile here is so genuine and so disarming, Pam can't help but be set at ease.

"I guess that makes sense," she admits. "I mean, it wasn't very good at first with Roy, but it . . . "

Jim interrupts, "Uh, yeah, I really don't want to hear or know anything about that."

Pam smiles and says "OK." She pauses and then says, "Thank you, Jim."

"No, I really appreciate you being honest with me."

"So, Jim, just how many women have you . . . "

Jim interrupts her quickly, "Oh, hey I think _Battlestar Gallactica_ is on tonight." Pam laughs at his obvious diversionary tactic and reaches over to kiss him. She pulls the ice pack away from his eye and kisses the bruise. She gets up from the sofa and grabs Jim's hand to pull him up as well.

"Where am I going?" Jim asks.

"I'm putting you to work."

* * *

**FINIS. Thanks for all the responses. I think I most wanted to prove to myself that a developing relationship between Jim and Pam could still be interesting and funny. That some of you also enjoyed the story is a real treat.  
**


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